


Do You Bleed Rubies?

by Skulduggery



Series: Bloodverse [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Hades and Persephone, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Demon Thorin, F/M, Female Bilbo, Female Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Invasion of Privacy, Manipulation, Possessive Behavior, Rule 63, Seduction, Temptation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 23:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3097031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skulduggery/pseuds/Skulduggery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s something to be said for the vitriolic blithering of extraterrestrial politics. And no—by extraterrestrial I am not referring to anything even remotely analogous with a Katy Perry song. (Worry not—I have it in good confidence that she will burn in hell within the century.) Extraterrestrial, for those lacking the acumen to properly interpret my phraseology, here pertains to things not of the Earth. The supernatural, so to speak, though I have yet to settle upon a term for such things which has not been sullied by the dirty paws of popular culture.</p><p>Politics, as I was saying, were directly responsible for my discovery of Bella Baggins. She is, after all, an unremarkable creature by standards both celestial and demonic. While she may be possessed of her charms, it is unlikely that I ever would have noticed her amidst the grand scheme of things were I not lured in by the call of the Arkenstone.</p><p>~</p><p>Thorin is the Lord of Silver Fountains, a Prince of Hell. This is his account of how he fell in love with an ordinary mortal woman.</p><p>Companion ficlet to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1133511/chapters/2291112">Sell Me the Secrets of Love with a Pint of Blood</a>. Modern Demon AU with fem!Bilbo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Bleed Rubies?

**Author's Note:**

> Though there aren't any major spoilers for [Sell Me the Secrets of Love with a Pint of Blood](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1133511/chapters/2291112) in this ficlet, I do encourage you to go check that out first. It's the heart of my Bloodverse fics and serves as a good primer for the AU.
> 
> (Also, I've got nothing against Katy Perry. I like her stuff. That's all Thorin.)

There’s something to be said for the vitriolic blithering of extraterrestrial politics. And **_no_** —by extraterrestrial I am not referring to anything even remotely analogous with a Katy Perry song. (Worry not—I have it in good confidence that she will burn in hell within the century.) Extraterrestrial, for those lacking the acumen to properly interpret my phraseology, here pertains to things _not of the Earth_. The supernatural, so to speak, though I have yet to settle upon a term for such things which has not been sullied by the dirty paws of popular culture.

Politics, as I was saying, were directly responsible for my discovery of Bella Baggins. She is, after all, an unremarkable creature by standards both celestial and demonic. While she may be possessed of her charms, it is unlikely that I ever would have noticed her amidst the grand scheme of things were I not lured in by the call of the Arkenstone.

The Arkenstone. You’ll be wondering what that is, I suppose.

Recall the ancient lore of the Ark of the Covenant. It was said to contain a great power—a gift from Manwë himself, as a matter of fact. The human tales grow a bit vague concerning the nature of that treasure, however. As much as the Ark can be described in great detail, its contents are more or less lost to the pages of history. Fortunately for you, there are those of us who have far-reaching memory so as to recall the treasure contained within the Ark: the aforementioned Arkenstone.

The Arkenstone was not merely a pretty relic. It was imbued with the power to command the legions of heaven. (I imagine by now you’re beginning to develop a clearer understanding of my interest.) In the early days of the world, Manwë recognized the terrible power that could come of such a relic, and he hid it deep within the Earth. Not deep enough: eventually it was unearthed by mortal scum delving too far from the light. They recovered it and, with its power, cut a swath of destruction across the world.

Manwë did not like that. Calamity struck and the Arkenstone was once again lost.

That was when I began my search. Divinity certainly had the power to slap humanity on the wrist the moment it began toying with powers beyond its control, but demon-kind? Not so. Were a Prince of Hell (yours truly) to gain control over such an artifact, the balance would be irrevocably shifted in favor of darkness. The world would become the devil’s playground, so to speak. And it would be _glorious_.

I hunted for centuries. Millennia. Manwë was not oblivious to my doings. When I began getting too close, he stole the stone away and destroyed it. Power, however, cannot be destroyed—it can only be transferred. And so, undoubtedly thinking himself remarkably clever, he hid the power of the Arkenstone within a mortal vessel.

Bella Baggins, the new Virgin Mary. Perhaps not so literal on the _virgin_ part, but equally unassuming and equally attractive to the sacred powers that be.

She was a grown woman by the time I tracked her down. Manwë was likely hoping she would stay hidden longer—perhaps long enough to bear some simpering mortal’s brat child for the power to transfer to. Had that occurred, I would have been forced to begin my search anew.

Blissfully, that was not so. She was untouched. Obscure. Utterly ignored, like a perfect rose on the far side of a bed of thorns. Mine for the taking.

Admittedly, when I first discovered that the power had been transferred to a mortal vessel, I had every intention of slaughtering that vessel like a sacrificial lamb and taking the powers for myself. But that was before I saw her and knew her.

Before I fell utterly and madly in love with her.

I moved by way of mirrors; I was a mere image in her mind, a reflection that only she could see in passing glances, gone in the blink of an eye. Thranduil, her guardian angel, would not notice me that way. The space contained within a reflection is the shadow-realm—a narrow dimension more or less neglected by the majority of the universe, and therefore extremely convenient for those wishing to make use of subtlety. I was free to observe unnoticed by all except my intended, and even she was convinced that my appearance was a stroke of madness. It is truly remarkable how blissfully she resigned herself to that madness once she grew convinced that there was no cure. That’s how I knew that one day she would return my affections, even after I let the figurative cat out of the bag. Discovering that I was a Prince of Hell would be a minor setback, of course, but mortals overcome such trifles quickly—and Bella was so very desperate to be loved.

My dear Bella. She bared her soul to me, believing that there were no secrets to be kept from a figment of one’s own imagination. Naturally, she began by divulging all of her greatest peeves with her employees—also coincidentally employees of mine—and in those moments we developed a truly spiritual connection. Never before has anyone understood so keenly my deep love for my nephews—as well as my occasional desire to rip out their throats. We were made for each other, I tell you.

Gradually, our conversations grew intimate. (That is—they were a bit too one-sided to technically classify as conversations, but there was a great deal I wished to say to her in that time, and I believe I managed to impart much of it with the careful, measured use of my eyebrows. There’s a great art to the eyebrows, and I am a master.) She began to share with me her dreams, her ambitions, and even her fantasies. She lusted over me openly then, often paying great praise to her own imagination for conjuring up such a striking figure. My appearance in her life served as something of a sexual renaissance, even if she happened to always be alone in bed. She took great, perverse pleasure in putting on a show for her voyeur, and I was all too happy to indulge.

There were nights when she sang for me, danced for me. Nights when she cried to me, when I was her only consolation. Those nights were the hardest: nights when I wanted so desperately to come to her, but I could not for fear of how she might react when the truth was unveiled. That fear held me back for months. Though I was her lover only from a shadow in a reflection, it was a blissful time indeed, and I would have rather stayed like that for a hundred years than risk losing her.

But I didn’t have a hundred years. I scarcely had ten. She was ripe for the picking, and I wanted to take her at her prime—certainly before Thranduil and his lackeys began closing in, crushing her precious spirit with their heavenly prison. Bella may have been ill-suited to Hell, but nor was she ideal stock for Heaven.

And if the thought of losing her was unbearable, then the weighty knowledge that the Arkenstone might also slip through my grasp was beyond comprehension.

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm resurrecting the Bloodverse. A new chapter for [Sell Me the Secrets of Love with a Pint of Blood](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1133511/chapters/2291112) is in the works, but in the meantime, I found this little gem lurking in the corners of my hard drive and it was too good not to share. It opens up a whole lot of background information for the Bloodverse and adds a whole new dimension to Thorin's interest in Bella.
> 
> For now, I don't have any plans to continue this particular ficlet but that may change in the future.


End file.
